


Halcyon Days

by RicePips



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Blossoming Romance, Champagne, Crusty bread and cheese, F/M, Post-Coda, Post-Endgame, Post-Episode: 02e25 Resolutions, Sailing Lake George, These two break me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 00:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RicePips/pseuds/RicePips
Summary: The night she cheats death, they sail Lake George....It’s something they repeat until Kathryn pushes the limits of the parameters she once defined....It’s the start of the end, but also the beginning.





	Halcyon Days

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own and I sadly do not own these characters or the world in which they reside. 
> 
> I just cannot let these two go even after all these years....

Halcyon Days

They had spent many a day here since that awful experience. 

It had started the night she cheated death with a moonlit sail upon Lake George with Champagne, cheese and fresh crusty bread - despite the limitations, a replicator could produce a very accurate replica French Campagne. There wasn’t quite the same fluffiness or the same crunch to the crust, but it was close and went well with a delicious Brie. 

That evening had been as close to perfect as this unforgiving Quadrant would ever allow. 

The holographic moon had been as bright and mottled as the real thing, the water gentle and warm as it lapped the sides of the boat. 

And the company had been exquisite. 

Together, they’d laughed and talked, conversation easy and light - no deep and meaningful’s on a night where death had been so victoriously cheated. 

They’d smiled - flirted even - and then retired to their own quarters, fuzzy with champagne and cheese and the the comfort of each other. They’d held hands, hugged and said their goodnights with the promise of repeating the event on another occasion. 

From neither had it been just lip service. 

From that day on they spent every day off together sailing Lake George, a picnic basket filled with goodies and champagne. Their conversation would never be about the ship, but about life, their hopes and dreams. 

They learnt a lot about each other. 

And their friendship continued to blossom.

On those days they were just Kathryn and Chakotay. Two friends spending time together. Two friends growing closer. 

On one particular day, the air was relaxed, the champagne flowing, the cheese perfectly ripe, the pickles perfectly spicy and sour, the grapes juicy and sweet, the bread crusty and fresh, and Kathryn felt so relaxed, she couldn’t help the looseness of her tongue. 

“Do you remember the night I almost died?” she asked, lounging back against the cushions of the boat at the aft of the little vessel. “After the talent night?”

Chakotay paused, his whole body tensing as he placed the cheese back into the picnic basket. 

He sat back and clasped his hands together. 

“I’m not likely to forget,” he said, his tone carefully controlled. 

“I never told you about what I saw,” Kathryn said, watching him through careful eyes. 

Chakotay cleared his throat and looked down at the bottom of the boat, though said nothing. 

“Do you want to know?” she asked. 

“Kathryn, it’s in the past, a timeline that no longer exists,” he replied, his tone strained, eyes still downcast, one hand tugging awkwardly on his ear. 

“I saw you,” she said, carrying on regardless thanks to the champagne and the holographic sun. Her mother had always told her that with a drink inside her she had no filter. 

Chakotay looked up and his eyes betrayed the discomfort he clearly felt at the turn of the conversation. 

“More champagne?” he asked, his hands reaching for the basket once more, the urgency to change the subject evident in his voice.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn said, her tone gentle. “I watched you try to resuscitate me and then cry when you failed.”

She watched his head drop and she knew she was hurting him, but she needed him to know. 

“Kathryn...” he finally uttered. 

“It was hard to watch,” she admitted. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“It wasn’t real,” he muttered. 

“Right then it was,” Kathryn replied. 

“Can we not talk about this?” Chakotay pleaded. 

“I need to know,” Kathryn pushed. “Why?”

“Why what?” he demanded, body suddenly tense and defensive. 

“Why did you cry?” she pressed, head tilted as she studied him. 

“Do you really need to ask me that?” he asked harshly. 

“I need to hear it. Hear you say it.”

“Because to lose you would be the worst thing, the end of me,” he answered, tone filled with things neither would dare define. 

“Chakotay...” she whispered, emotion running strong in her voice. 

“I mean it, I don’t want to think about it,” he said firmly. He looked away, rubbing at his jaw, breathing harder than usual. 

“You acted like I was...” she couldn’t help but say, watching him carefully as her heart hammered. 

“Kathryn, please? Stop?” he looked at her with pleading eyes.

“I just want to know,” she pushed, despite her head warning her against such things. 

“Stop!”

The silence following that exclamation echoed through the peacefulness of Lake George. 

Kathryn swallowed hard and looked away, her heart twisting painfully in her chest. 

“Chakotay...” she began again. 

“Computer, end program!” Chakotay barked and the scene faded, the whine of the projectors shutting down following his exclamation, Lake George fading to the stark metal of the holodeck. 

“You outlined parameters, Kathryn,” he said, tone hard, eyes betraying his true emotions. “Try sticking to them yourself.”

And with that he marched away, the doors swishing closed behind him. 

Kathryn watched the door and groaned, her head falling forward, internally chiding herself for her own stupidity. 

It would be many years before they sailed Lake George again. 

Years filled with moments of hope, a potential that they were still the same, but mainly hurt, loneliness and a sense of loss partnered them through the rest of their journey. 

On Voyager they never quite recovered. 

*Eight years later*

The air was dry, a heat that permeated the lungs, something a holodeck could not replicate authentically. 

Insects twitched across the surface of the water, ripples spreading out, and the boat bobbed gently against its moorings. 

The sun was setting upon the horizon, the most vibrant colours spreading out across the sky in fire and ink. 

The basket was loaded into the boat amidst laughter, the excitement and nostalgia vibrant in the air. 

As the moorings were loosened, the boat began to glide out onto the lake, strong arms guiding the oars, the glint of gold upon a finger, the popping of a champagne cork the soundtrack as a matching gold flash from a smaller hand joined the painting of perfection. 

The bread was fresh and just the right amount of crunchy, the cheese ripe and the grapes juicy and sweet as stars began to glitter above in the darkening ink sky. 

“Do you remember the last time we were here?” Kathryn asked, her voice gravelly with expensive champagne.

“How could I forget?” Chakotay answered, eyes sparkling in the failing light. He lit the ancient carriage lamp they had brought to guide their way amidst the darkness. 

“Where did we go wrong?” Kathryn asked, melancholy filling her tone. 

“I think we lost our way, but we found it in the end,” Chakotay replied. 

“It’s a shame it took us so long,” Kathryn mused. 

Chakotay moved, the boat rocking dangerously as he shifted closer making Kathryn exclaim and laugh, clinging desperately to the sides of the boat. 

He pulled her closer, the basket getting shoved by a foot, a glass tinkling as it fell over. 

“The journey doesn’t matter as long as we got there in the end,” he said firmly. 

Kathryn sighed, settling against him, eyes fixed out across the lake. 

“I treated you terribly...” she said, her voice filled with years of regret that now the chains of command had fallen away, she was able to feel. 

“You married me in the end,” Chakotay commented, pulling her closer still, amusement in his voice. 

Kathryn couldn’t stop the grin, the newly placed ring still deliciously new upon her finger.

She looked up, his profile lit only by the flickering from the carriage lamp. 

“Only because you’d have me!” she teased. 

“I think that’s the other way around,” Chakotay commented with a smug grin. 

Kathryn grinned back and relished the kiss he bestowed upon her, the sensation sending tingles right to her toes. 

“This is perfect,” she sighed, settling back once more. 

“It’s what you deserve,” he murmured into her hair. 

No more words needed to be said and they sat together, bobbing upon the gentle waters, content that finally they had made it.


End file.
